


Cathedral

by Littlebabyleaf



Series: KlanceWeek2k16 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Blindfolds, Handcuffs, Klance Week 2016, M/M, My poor space baby, Porn With Plot, but it's not today, klance, one day i'll write something that's not angst, this is the best of both worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:48:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7686946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlebabyleaf/pseuds/Littlebabyleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance has known for a while he was bisexual, but has never gotten the chance to be with a boy. However, after getting asked to go back to another boys room to talk, will it be everything he thought it was going to be?<br/>Klance Week Day 2~ Love/Hate</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cathedral

**Author's Note:**

> We all make mistakes. Today I wrote porn about cartoon characters and I'm still here.  
> I wrote this for the love/hate prompt but this is really different, yikes yikes yikes. Love Him, Hate Yourself™

When they met at that party, it sounded like a good idea. Lance knew he liked boys, he had just never gotten the chance to be with one, growing up in central Florida didn’t exactly yield a healthy crop of LGBT boys. But he’s in college now, in Boston, where people just seemed more opened minded, and this was his chance. His sexuality was stop going to be a hypothetical, something straight people would no longer say, “If you’ve never been with one how do you know you like them?” to. 

He loved the way the boy said talk, when he offered to take him back to his dorm room, talk. While Lance knew going to talk in another boy’s dorm at 11 at night was code for, come do ravenous, penetrative sex to my body, he was still surprised. Maybe because talk made it seem more romantic, like shy kisses and slow undressing and taking as much time as they needed for one another to be comfortable. But it wasn’t that.

It was, walking into his dorm room behind the boy, Keith, closing the door and having Keith turn on his heels so fast it could’ve burnt a hole in his carpet, as he pinned Lance to the door. It was Keith, slamming his lips into Lance’s so hard it blinded him momentarily. It was the taste of every girl he’s ever kissed, and every boy he thought about kissing appearing in his mouth before disappearing beneath Keith’s. It was a cosmic collision of everything Lance knew it was going to be and everything Lance wanted it to be. 

It was Keith, slowly pulling away and dragging his mouth to Lance’s jaw, him nibbling on the jaw. It was Lance knowing he was going to have a hickey the next day but not caring because maybe he could ignore how disappointed he was if he focused on the pleasure. It was the feeling of Keith’s fingers all over him, up his shirt, on his thighs, down the back of his pants. 

In a matter of seconds after this, clothes were being pulled off, first shoes, then shirts, somehow they found time for socks in the middle of it all, then belts. Finally they were on Keith’s bed, Keith on top of Lance pinning him down with ease. 

As he was kissing him something kept gnawing at his mind, making it extremely hard to focus on the pleasure and not on the disappointment. After a couple minutes of it, he believed he figured it out and he knew how to fix it. When Keith pulled away for some air, his eyes looking some type of hungry he had only seen in his dreams, he told him.

“T-this is my first time with a boy…” Lance said his voice cracking at the beginning making him seem even lamer. Keith’s eyes calmed down, and he smiled sweetly at him, rubbing his hand over Lance’s cheek. 

“I’ll be gentle.” said Keith, his voice so soft. Lance quickly pulled his legs out from beneath Keith, wrapped them around his back and pulled Keith in.

“If I can walk straight tomorrow, I’ll need a round two.” he whispered in his ear, nibbling slightly on it when he did. He knew Keith being gentle wouldn’t help anything, in fact it would make things worst. Him stopping every few minutes to make sure he was okay. If he couldn’t ignore the feeling of disappointment, he was going to have it pounded out of him with the help of Keith’s dick. 

“Hm… I’m not sure if that’s a good threat.” jested Keith, biting his bottom lip.

Keith leaned over and pulled three things from his bedside table, a box of condoms, a small slightly used bottle of lube and a pair of handcuffs. Lance felt his heart jump a bit when he saw the last object. Keith picked up the handcuffs and dangled them in front of Lance’s face, his eyes following them like a moth does a flame. 

“Can we?” asked Keith tilting his head, his voice coy. Lance was a bit concerned with the fact he kept handcuffs in his bedside table, but he was also way too turned on to care. He nodded and Keith leaned down, beginning to weave the handcuffs through the posts on his headboard. 

“Blindfold me.” whispered Lance as Keith leaned down, and that clearly made Keith feel some type of way judging by the type of way he was being poked in the thigh. Once Keith locked the handcuffs in place he then leaned back over to his bedside table and pulled out a piece of soft fabric. 

“Okay but like, is your nightstand like a treasure chest of pleasurable goodies?” asked Lance laughing as the blindfold was being tied around him. 

“You have no idea.” said Keith, finishing the knot. This was perfect for Lance, he could focus on the feelings now, on the pleasure and not on any disappointment or whatever it was that was still gnawing at the back of his mind. And then it started again, Keith removed his pants, and then he removed Lance’s and then Lance heard a condom being opened, and then it started for real. 

There was nothing romantic about it. Somehow he thought the handcuffs and blindfold would maybe make it more romantic, put some kind of trust into it, some kind of intimacy, but it didn’t. It just made Lance not be able to see and made his wrists hurt.

He was enjoying it, and Keith was good at it, Lance loved the feeling of Keith’s long fingers and his long, other things… the blindfold making them ghost over his skin. The blindfold also made him lose track of time, or maybe it was the pleasure, maybe it was both. All he knew was that somewhere in the middle of it, the bed turned cathedral and he screamed jesus and Keith answered, and somehow it only made the situation sexier.

Somewhere in the middle of it, he thought of his mom. He thought of the church they went to growing up, and how the only time they talked about being gay was there. Not that Lance was gay, but if he ever told his dad he like both he would be told he had to chose. He still remembered the first time he learned about being gay, like really learned, he was thirteen when the preacher quoted that leviticus quote that republicans hold onto like driftwood after the titanic. He had been hearing it for years, it was just something people said, but somehow being in the middle of him realizing he liked boys, made it echo so loud in that quiet church. And somehow it made that church seem empty, and lonely, and like he was the only person who understood what he was going through.

In highschool when he realized he was bisexual he thought about coming out, but when an out gay kid was jumped after school he vetoed the idea entirely. Decided college was the safest place to do it, but he couldn’t live at college forever and his mother still called and asked about girls, and it wasn’t like he was lying to her. It just fell in the category of, “I’m not lying I’m just not telling you everything” and somehow that hurt him, he left a little piece of him on the phone every time he talked to her. Eventually, he would occasionally ignored the calls, call her back later when he had more strength, more energy, more light in his pocket to fling on the situation.

Shame. That’s what it was, that’s what was gnawing at the back of his mind, shame. Somewhere between confessing everyone of his sins into Keith’s bedsheets and making sure that Keith, his neighbors, and everyone else in this hall heard every spanish curse word fell out of his mouth, he heard his mother’s voice. He heard his voice, telling his mother’s voice about this and he heard his mother’s voice, disappointed, confused. But Mijo, you’ve had girlfriends? He heard his mother and his father talking about where they went wrong, he heard them going to their local pastor for help, he heard awkward family dinners at Christmas where nobody knew what to say, he heard them saying goodbye to their grandchildren and their daughter in law, he heard them hear gay. 

Suddenly, he felt dirty, like really dirty, like he could’ve polished his insides with bleach and they’d still be dirty, dirty. Suddenly Keith’s touch felt like hot coals, and needles, and dentist appointments and awkward family dinners at Christmas where nobody knew what to say. Suddenly it was like the ceiling had collapsed in on his chest, suddenly it was like his chest had collapsed in on his chest, suddenly his lungs turned iron and while they couldn’t be crushed they still couldn’t breath. Suddenly, he couldn’t breath.

Suddenly, he couldn’t even think. 

Suddenly he was back in that church so many years ago, and he was alone again. Calling Keith’s bed a cathedral earlier was generous. Cathedrals were beautiful and proud, but this feeling, wasn’t a cathedral. This, fear wasn’t a cathedral. This hatred wasn’t a cathedral. This shame wasn’t a cathedral. This… this, wasn’t a cathedral. 

It was unromantic, and hidden, and secret, and quick, and dirty… he felt so dirty and he didn’t know why. He was okay with this, it wasn’t like Keith did anything wrong, in fact he did everything right, so why did he feel so dirty, feel so venomous, feel so… wrong?

Eventually, they finished, and Keith undid the handcuffs and took off the blindfold and a part of Lance wished he didn’t? A part of Lance wished he could still hide, pretend it didn’t happen, but once he saw Keith, his face pink and sweaty, he knew it was real. It felt like something inside of him that day died, he didn’t know what, but something did. 

Then Keith cuddled with him, and they went to sleep, and the morning after gave new meaning to the walk of shame. It was like every one of Lance’s ancestors were looking down on him in that walk, one sock on, wearing Keith’s shirt, his own pants and no underwear, and it was like walking through a cathedral. Looking at the beauty of the walls, the ceiling, the ever expansiveness of the skies above him, and he felt so small, so terribly small. 

He knew he wanted to see Keith again, but for real this time, in a restaurant or a movie theater, some place a little more romantic, some place a little less dirty. He knew there was nothing wrong with him, but somehow, that only made the sting worst, only made the shame dirtier, only made him more broken hearted over the jaggedness of the real world, and only made the cathedral lonelier.

**Author's Note:**

> ??? I don't know I had an even harder time with this prompt I don't know, hope you enjoyed it! Comments and kudos are always appreciated it thank you!!  
>  (also, kinda kinky!Keith and kinda Kinky!Lance were fun to write yikes)


End file.
